There is a lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleas'd my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die. Her gesture, motion, and her smiles, Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles, Beguiles my heart, I know not why, And yet I love her till I die. Her free behaviour, winning looks, Will make a lawyer burn his books; I touch'd her not, alas! not I, And yet I love her till I die. Had I her fast betwixt mine arms, Judge you that think such sports were harms, Were't any harm? no, no, fie, fie, For I will love her till I die. Should I remain confined there So long as Ph{oe}bus in his sphere, I to request, she to deny, Yet would I love her till I die. Cupid is winged and doth range, Her country so my love doth change: But change she earth, or change she sky, Yet will I love her till I die.